Over and over again, yet the panties were dry against my skin...and something else peculiar struck me....my penis looked so small...like a newborn inf...nts...I knew now something was incredibly wrong and fear encompassed my mind...I reached down to feel myself and was instantly struck by the waves again, raw lust filled my mind...this had to be a dream...I decided to try and stand up...and as I did...I accidentally knocked the small pink bag onto the floor, where the garter and pantyhose fell. I had built up a small wardrobe of clothes and footwear. I had one wig, a blonde one. Not good quality, but wearing it helped me feel feminine. I was dressing alone, at home.Then I got a message from an older guy called David, in North Manchester. He wanted to meet. I invited him around to the house ( very risky, but I was a bit naïve). He was in his early 40s, married and pleasant. That first meeting we ended up kissing and rubbing each other, he had his up my skirt and we enjoyed ourselves,. I wanted to press my lips against the back of her hand. I wanted to kiss her palm and each of her fingertips. I wanted to kiss my way up her forearms that were bare to the elbow. She was evidently oblivious to me.The presentation went well. Immediately after the presentation, she was much more relaxed. We walked around the campus (the presentation took place at a small college). It was a beautiful early spring day. The grass was green, but the trees hadn't yet started to show much sign of. His broad brimmed hat was tilted at a rakish angle to shade his eyes, and he smiled at us from a round face fringed by a luxuriant black beard. He stood a little less than six feet tall and his shoulders filled his jacket to bursting point.“Please introduce me to your companions, Valentine,” he said. “Although I recognise your daughter as she is the spit and image of her mother Priscilla.”He bowed to Chastity. “I take it you are the second Missus Crudwright? My sincerest.